For Everything There is a Season
by oz diva
Summary: ***Warning Major Character Death by suicide*** What if Jeannie came too late to Green Gables. Story renamed from Bang!
1. Chapter 1

**This story references a scene in Series 1, Episode 7. What if Jeannie got to Green Gables a split second too late?**

* * *

 **BANG!**

The sound would stay with Marilla for the rest of her long life, the sudden crack reverberating around the property, bouncing off the barn walls, echoing. The horses shocked into bolting around the paddock.

There was the sound … then the terrible silence that followed.

* * *

It had all been a dreadful mistake. After the shock of the crop loss, Matthew had panicked. The bank manager was severe but allowed him to take out a mortgage on the farm. The plan was set; until Marilla waylaid him when he returned home. It all started to unravel from there. She was aghast that he had acted without her input, refusing to understand that he had acted in their best interests.

"You mortgaged the farm? Are you out of your mind?" She railed at him. "You took out a loan against Green Gables?"

Matthew tried to argue that it had to be done.

Marilla was aghast, "Why did you take such an action without discussing it with me."

Truth be told Matthew knew that had been a mistake once she voiced it but he felt, as head of the household that it had been his decision. But though he told her that he was trying to protect them, make the best out of a bad situation, his words sounded hollow. The problem was that he hadn't even told Marilla that the crop was lost in the first place. That meant she thought he didn't trust her. That wasn't it, or at least not primarily. It was a man's job to protect his family, not a woman's. She was his sister, not his wife. "I knew you'd lose your head," he explained.

"Oh, I ought to smack yours right off your shoulders!" she retorted furiously.

He explained that they had the loan and he had spent it all on high yield crops. But when he laid out the plan to her, she was still angry, rationalising that she didn't want him working harder than ever, she wanted him to work less.

That's when it happened, his legs gave out from under him, the room went dark and the next thing he knew he woke up in his bed a day later. She told him he lost consciousness and collapsed on the parlor floor. Somehow, they had managed to get him into his bed. The realization that he had made a terrible mistake came upon him in a flash. Now he was ill, a burden upon the family, despite his best efforts to save them; worse they had the millstone of debt around them. He had to do something, he had to save them all.

Marilla sat with him reading the Bible and trying to feed him some soup, He wasn't hungry, he didn't think he'd ever be hungry again, his stomach was tied in knots. The words were comforting, even if the sentiment rang false in his ears.

Anne had been sent to town to sell off all their worldly goods to pay the loan. The loan he had taken out, to solve the mess he had gotten them all in to. He felt sick that she had taken on this journey, she was just a little girl. It made him think of that other terrible journey they had sent her on, after the _misunderstanding_. She had survived that, yes, but they had nearly lost her for good. If she had caught that train, they might never have seen her again. His heart would have been broken. He had to save them now, as a way of making up for all the trouble he had put them in. Even by selling all their worldly goods, a good proportion of the debt would remain. Despite all Anne's efforts, they'd still be in dire straits. He had the perfect solution, all he needed was some time alone. Hopefully tomorrow Marilla would be forced out to the barn to milk the cows. He'd do it then.

Matthew fretted for Anne, "You shouldn't have let her go," he told Marilla.

Marilla tried to settle him, telling him not to worry. She told him that Anne would be safe with Jerry. But Jerry was just a boy too. Matthew didn't think they'd be safe even together.

"You and Anne, you'd be better off if I were gone." He told her.

"What? I won't have you talking like this."

"My life insurance will hold you both in good stead." It made him feel safe to know it was there. All he had to do was die, to make the money available to them.

"I won't hear it."

"It's what I wish for."

"Why would you wish that? You mustn't think such thoughts. We need you here." Marilla remonstrated with him.

"No."

"Anne loves you. You have to remember that."

"But… her future."

"Which do you think she would choose? This house … or you? Now stop this morbid foolishness."

Matthew rolled away from her, eager to have the conversation over.

Looking at him in his terrible depression for a while longer, Marilla walked back to the kitchen fretting, and then to bed where she lay awake for many hours.

* * *

During the night Matthew got up to find himself a pen, ink and some paper. He needed to write a couple of letters.

He loved his two women so so much.

Marilla, his sister. They had been together forever. He hated to disappoint her. She was always so strong, so capable and he was … not. Her look of dismay the previous afternoon after she had gotten the news; it was more than a man could bear. What had seemed so perfect a solution the day before, made her so very angry. Why couldn't she see that there was no alternative? Green Gables and the family were at stake. Matthew had done his best to save it and she was far from appreciative; she was furious. They never fought. She talked, he listened. That was how it had been, all their long lives.

The one time he did speak up, she did listen in her turn. They had sought a boy, received a girl and despite Marilla's initial hesitation they had kept her. Anne. The apple of his eye. Anne had brought joy. Yes, that was the word, Anne had brought joy into their lives.

He would do anything to protect her, protect them both. When they read his letters they would understand he was doing it for them. There was only one path open to him. One devastating way to ensure they had a future. He was sure they would be angry with him; they would be sad. They did love him, and he loved them. In time they would understand his sacrifice. It would mean they could keep Green Gables. He had paid his annuity regularly, even when money was tight. It was a nest egg safely tucked away for a rainy day. The only stipulation was, he couldn't be around to enjoy it himself. Life insurance, well it was death insurance really wasn't it? A necessary evil to guard against his inevitable failure. He shouldn't be surprised, it was obvious he wasn't up to the pressures of this world. Better to get some money for the family, than have them live with his useless self. It was better this way, really it was. He hoped they would forgive him, one day.

* * *

The next morning, Marilla looked in. She picked up his chamber pot and pulling on her big woolen coat she declared "I'll be going outside for a bit, tending to the livestock. I hope you've let go of that fool notion of last night. We've been together all these years, thick or thin. So, don't think I'll put up with you slipping away now. Anne will be home today, and she'll be very happy to see you."

Her words were compelling, but Matthew had made up his mind. This was the perfect opportunity.

Dizzy. He'd been sleeping for a long time and he felt woozy when he got to his feet. Kneeling down, his hands on the bed to steady himself, he located the gun under the bed. The shells were in the bureau, so he staggered out to the parlor to fetch them. The floor boards felt cold, he had no time to think of it, but it would be the last time he would feel smooth wood against naked feet.

Sitting down on the chair he fumbled in his haste to place the shells inside the rifle.

"Yoo hoo!"

Someone was outside. Who could it be? They weren't expecting anyone and it didn't sound like Rachel Lynde. He kept quiet, determined to go through with his plan. The gun was awkward, he had to think about where to shoot, from what angle. He wanted to do it right, not to make a mistake on this most important of tasks. He couldn't think about what it would be like for Marilla, he was intent on his own demise, for him there would be no after.

"MATTHEW!"

Matthew glanced up at Jeannie, of all people, but he was resolute. She disturbed him yes, but he pulled the trigger regardless.

 **BANG!**

Marilla had been on her way back to the house. She had seen an unfamiliar carriage parked by the house, but when she heard the gun's report, she sped up, only to find her dear sweet brother lying in a pool of blood, the shell having pierced his flank.

"Oh, dear lord, no no. No!" Marilla stood over Matthew in a daze of indecision. What to do, what to do?

Jeannie bent down to feel for his pulse. Was that? Yes, there was a distinct beat under her fingertips. "He's still alive. Marilla, he's still alive. Help me."

Marilla looked at her in shock. "He's he's still here?"

Marilla sat down on the floor behind Matthew and manoeuvred around so that she was sitting with her legs out. Jeannie helped her lift Matthew's body against her chest. As he lay cradled against her, she pressed against the wound, in a vain attempt to stem the flow of blood.

"Oh Matthew, what have you done? Why brother, why?"

Matthew was silent.

"Matthew, don't leave me brother, stay with me. I need you, don't go, don't leave me all alone." She cried, feeling him slip away, the blood sticky against her.

Jeannie stood, "I'll fetch the doctor."

"Matthew," Anne's cheery voice called out through the house. Marilla gave Jeannie a short sharp look as she held Matthew. No words were needed, Jeannie went out to greet Anne at the front door.

"Anne."

"Miss Jeannie, what are you doing here?"

'Anne, there's been an accident."

"Oh no, is everyone, is everyone all right?"

Anne was suddenly hyper aware of the weak winter sunlight as it struck the kitchen wall.

"It's Matthew," Jeannie's voice sounded like it was miles away. "He's hurt."

With a cry of anguish Anne rushed past Jeannie despite her attempt to stop her. Anne found both her parents on the parlor floor.

"Marilla? What happened?"

Marilla turned her red eyes towards Anne. "He's injured," she whispered.

"Injured? How?"

"He'd been talking, you know, after you left. He believed we'd be better off, financially, without him. I tried," Marilla sobbed, failing to answer Anne's question, "I tried to reassure him. I told him how much you loved him, how much we both loved him. That this house, as dear as it is to me, is nothing without him. I thought he understood. Then I went to tend to the livestock. The livestock Anne, as if the cows matter. I shouldn't have left him alone for even a minute."

"Marilla, is he? Is he?" Anne daren't even say the words.

"He's still alive."

"That's wonderful."

"Not really, I can't do anything for him." Marilla's voice was unemotional, mechanical even. As though if she showed any emotion she wouldn't be able to stop. It was better to keep it reined in. She hoped Anne would not think she cared any less.

"What happened?" Anne was frantic.

"He. He ... he shot himself, with the rifle."

"Can? Can we save him?"

"We must pray, Anne. Jeannie please go for the doctor! Until then all we can do is pray." Anne knelt down next to them both.

Talk to me Marilla. Tell me," Anne pleaded.

Keeping her eyes fixed on her brother, Marilla mechanically told Anne about their conversation of the night before. "I thought I talked him out of it. I thought I'd made a difference."

Anne hugged Marilla's shoulder even as she caressed Matthew; the three of them locked in an embrace. Rachel Lynde found them there, all together on the floor. Matthew's blood pooling around them all. She had been summoned by young Jerry who believed her services would be required.

* * *

 _The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  
_ _He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  
_ _He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  
_ _Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  
_ _Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  
_ _Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever._

When the doctor arrived, all he could hear was the sound of women praying. "Miss Cuthbert?"

"Doctor! Have a look, tell me he will be all right, please tell me you can save him."

Ushering the women out, the doctor examined Matthew Cuthbert for the second time that week. By look of the blood-stained clothes that covered his left flank, it was useless. It was a miracle that Mr Cuthbert was still alive, but he couldn't last the day. The only good thing at this time was that he was obviously unconscious, the doctor was sure it was painful.

Turning back to Marilla he could only shake his head. It was hopeless. There was no way he could stanch the blood loss in that area. Matthew would die, probably soon. He hated it bring it up, but had no choice. The death certificate would need a cause of death.

Matthew was too ill to move, so they left him on the floor. It seemed a poor place to die, but he was surrounded by the ones he loved, so there was that.

After a couple of hours Matthew revived momentarily. His eyes fluttered open, he looked at Anne, his blue eyes staring at the girl he loved more than life itself. "..."

"What's that Matthew? What did you say?"

It took a monumental effort to force more air through his lungs, but he did it. "Love."

Marilla felt rather than heard the word. As though every spare bit of energy he had left was expressed through his entire body. He spoke, then she felt all his strength depart, leaving her with his dead body in her arms.

* * *

Tucked away in a corner of the bureau was a piece of paper; the insurance policy. Unread by anyone since it was first taken out. On it, in small print were the following words: 'In the event of suicide, no payout will be made'.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** I'm Australian, we don't do guns. But I did wonder why Matthew, a farmer, would have a pistol. Surely a rifle would be useful for a man in his situation. If a horse or cow needed to be dispatched a pistol would be useless. So, I've changed the gun in question to a rifle, hidden under his bed. Also, I don't know if a self-inflicted rifle wound would be survivable even for a short time; for the sake of the story, let's just say it is.

Edit, ChickenWhisper tells me that a pistol could kill cattle. I guess I really wanted the rifle because I wanted the sound of the shot to ricochet around the property. Is a pistol loud enough? (CW You have to log in, so we can talk!)


	2. Chapter 2

I don't speak French and I'm not going to attempt to translate this next conversation into French, Quebecois at that, but you can assume this conversation would be taking place in that language.

* * *

 **Aftermath**

"Jerry, go and see to the stock, then run home, dear. Your mother will be waiting," Mrs Lynde kindly advised him. Jerry had glimpsed Mr Cuthbert lying in the pool of blood against Miss Cuthbert's chest. Jerry was sure that Mr Cuthbert was dying.

The barn felt very lonely as he fed and watered the stock. There were plenty of times Jerry had done the job on his own if Mr Cuthbert was running chores or out in the fields; but for some reason it felt lonelier than ever, maybe because there was no prospect of ever finding Mr Cuthbert working on a piece of machinery in that building again. Jerry sobbed at the thought of it. He had been a kind and attentive master. He had come to love the man's gentle manner, and the way Miss Cuthbert shared their food. He hated to think they were all suffering.

He ran home, still in tears. Oblivious to how he must look, he ran into his mother's arms. She exclaimed "Mon dieu! What happened to you Jerry?"

"Monsieur Cuthbert is dying, Maman."

Madame Baynard was caught off guard, "but what's that got to do with your bruises my boy?"

"Oh!" Jerry had actually forgotten about his face. "I got beaten up in town, some bad men stole the money I got for the horse."

"Come sit here, while I fetch some tea and start at the beginning."

Madame Baynard was often too busy to show much love for her offspring, but at the sight of her visibly distressed son she knew she had to stop for a moment to listen to his tale. With her work-worn hands she deftly poured some tea into a bowl for her boy, and watched as he cradled it.

Sipping on the tea, Jerry relayed the whole sorry tale to her. How they had hitched the horse to the sleigh, how he had had fun singing and annoying Anne who asked for silence. Madame Baynard smiled. From what Jerry had told her, the two children had a joking kind of relationship. It had been Jerry's job to sell the horse and he had done that and got a good price for it, but then he had been set upon by two ruffians who had beat him up and stolen the money. "I feel just terrible about it Maman, I was going to get my last wages from that sale, and the rest was going to help pay off the debt." Madame Baynard patted her son's knee. "The Cuthberts seem like decent people, Jerry, they wouldn't want you to be hurt on their account. Tell me where did you stay?"

"Oh, Maman, I can't believe, it was like a palace, not a house. She was very kind."

"She?"

"Madamoiselle Barry, she's rich and old, but very generous. Oh, look," Jerry pulled out a small bag, "she agreed to pay my wages for the next year, in advance."

Madame Baynard glanced inside approvingly, "this will come in handy, how can we thank her?" Jerry just shook his head.

"And then, oh Maman, we got home easily enough and then…," Jerry sobbed.

"What? What is it my son?"

"Monsieur Cuthbert, he is dead."

"Mon dieu," Madame Baynard crossed herself "What happened?"

"I think he shot himself."

"He was a mad man? Was he always mad, Jerry?"

"I don't think he was mad at all, I think he was …," he trailed off.

"What? What was he?"

"Sad. I think he was sad."

"Are you going back tomorrow?"

"Yes, someone will still have to feed the stock, milk the cows."

"Tell Mademoiselle Cuthbert if she needs anything she only need ask," Madame Baynard confessed, "Ah, I never thought I'd say that about an English, but there you go."

* * *

They laid Matthew in his bed and when they settled him against the pillows Rachel found two pieces of folded paper under the sheets. She handed them over to Marilla and Anne unread. The contents were not meant for her eyes.

 _Green Gables  
_ _December_

 _My darling wonderful Anne,_

 _I know you are hurting right now._

 _You think I am a coward. That I took the easy way out. The chips were down, and I escaped. All this is true, I suppose and yet not. I did not take my life to make yours harder. I took it to save you._ _Marilla probably told you the crop was lost. The ship it was loaded on foundered on the way to the mainland, there was no insurance. Without means, we were lost._

 _There is hope though, you will see. I did it for a reason. I sacrificed myself. Marilla will explain._

 _It will be hard for a while, I know my darling. But, you will survive, you will even thrive._

 _Anne, you are so strong. I marvel at the way you throw yourself into life. I know life hasn't always been easy for you. You've never said it in so many words, it's what you haven't said that has told me so much. The way you express your love for our humble Green Gables, your love for nature, your imagination, your love for … me. I have never deserved that love, yet you give it without hesitation. Who am I? I'm nobody really, just an old old man. Yet from the first moment we met, I knew you had to come live with us._

 _I want to apologise for not telling you that first day that you were not the child we expected. Why did I leave it so long? Why did I let Marilla break the bad news? Why did I lead you along? I'm a coward. That's why. I wanted to keep you from the first moment we met. I couldn't bear to disappoint you. You were smitten straightaway, as was I. I guess as you would say, we are kindred spirits. That ride home was the best two hours of my life. I think I even fooled myself into thinking Marilla would see my love for you immediately and never question it. Of course, that was foolish, for Marilla did mind at first, didn't she? But we brought her around, you and I. Mostly you, you charmed my sister in your own sweet way._

 _Anne, she is not as demonstrative, but never for one moment believe Marilla does not love you as much as I. Her love is strong and true and fierce. She will never give up on you, she will mind and keep you. She will love you for as long as there is breath in her body. You are our kin._

 _I am just so very sorry I could not live up to your expectations. Just know I did this out of love. Love for you, for Marilla and love for our beloved Green Gables._

 _I wish you a long and wonderful life, Anne. I see marriage (yes, I know you believe you are not interested right now, but I think you will marry the boy of your dreams one day) and many children in your future. I leave you in Marilla's care, happy in the knowledge that with this final sacrifice you will be well cared for._

 _Go well my darling, go well. I love you and I will always love you,_

 _Your father,_

 _Matthew Cuthbert_

* * *

 _Green Gables  
_ _December_

 _My dearest sister_

 _I'm sure you are hurting right now. You feel I have deserted you in our time of greatest need. You will not believe me I am sure, but I did this for a reason. Marilla, in the second drawer on the left of the bureau you will find the title for the life insurance policy I took out many years ago. It will save Green Gables. You and Anne can stay here for many years to come._

 _I want to thank you for looking after me all my life. You sacrificed your happiness for our family. Do not think I ever took your actions for granted. You could have been with John Blythe all this time, you could have travelled, you could have had children._

 _I know you wanted children. I heard your cries as I cradled you in my arms when Rachel had hers. I know it hurt, Marilla. You would have made such a wonderful mother. You are such a wonderful mother._

 _Any minor doubts I may have had in that regard were quelled when I witnessed the marvelous way you have nurtured our girl. I know, we both know, she has had a torrid beginning. Anne will grow and thrive under your amazing tutelage. It's the one thing I can be sure of in this whole mess._

 _I am so sorry it has come to this. I know I should have confided in you when I heard about the ship foundering. I know now the mortgage was a mistake, it all made perfect sense earlier in the week. I just hope with my insurance policy you can pay the loan off. Maybe William Barry will rent the fields and take that weight off your mind?_

 _The one thing I am most sorry for is that I will not see our girl wed. I pray she finds a good man. Our life has not been so very terrible, but I think she would do better to be happily married with many children._

 _Marilla, look after her. Look after yourself._

 _Until we meet again._

 _Your loving brother,_

 _Matthew Cuthbert_

* * *

It was only now in hindsight that Marilla could recall the musty and sulfuric scent of the gunpowder. She had been too fraught at the time to notice it but now as the scene played out in her mind she smelt it once again. She could recall the same smell after Papa had to shoot their horse all those years ago. She had begged him not to, but the horse had broken its leg. Papa told her to leave him to it, that she shouldn't witness his actions. But the horse had been a friend, she felt she owed him that much, to have someone who loved it by its side at the last. She stroked his head, telling him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that he had to die. There was the terrible noise which made her ears ring and the horse collapsed. She felt awful now to be comparing her brother's demise to that of the horse, it was the smell.

Matthew looked so peaceful in his coffin dressed in his best Sunday suit. On his placid face there was a little kindly smile as if he but slept, dreaming pleasant dreams.

Marilla was in shock. She could barely speak, afraid that if she did so, all her emotions would come rushing out and she may never stop wailing. So she had kept her responses to Rachel, to Jeannie, the doctor and Anne quite mechanical. She hoped they didn't think she loved him any less. Her brother, her brother that she loved so, had left her. Left her to mourn him alone. Left them to carry on without him. He had been her rock, her foundation. It had been them together against the world for so long. It didn't seem right that she should be all alone now. Marilla didn't feel brave enough.

Anne too was in shock, she could not cry, not yet. It made her feel terrible. They had had a pleasant enough trip to Charlottetown. When she had been enjoying her dinner with Miss Barry, Matthew had been planning his demise, and just as she and Jerry came into sight of Green Gables he must have been pulling the trigger. If only they had travelled more quickly, perhaps if they had gotten up earlier, or she had helped Jerry rig the horse to the sleigh. All the reasoning in the world didn't change the truth, he was dead. Her father, the first man to see her potential; the first man who loved her romantic notions; the second man to love her as his daughter. She broke down then, to think of him laying in his coffin downstairs. Then the tears came and Anne wept her heart out. Marilla heard her and crept in to comfort her.

"There - there - don't cry so, dearie. It can't bring him back. It-it isn't right to cry so. God knows best."

"Oh, just let me cry Marilla," sobbed Anne.

"We've got each other, Anne. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here - if you'd never come. Oh, Anne, I know I've been kind of strict and harsh with you maybe - but you mustn't think I didn't love you as well as Matthew did, for all that. I want to tell you know when I can. It's never been easy for me to say things out of my heart, but at times like this it's easier. I love you as dear as if you were my own flesh and blood and you've been my joy and comfort ever since you came to Green Gables."

They clasped each other all night long and fell asleep together in Anne's tiny bed, taking comfort in each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**Kindness**

December was a sad month at Green Gables.

Marilla had found the insurance document easily enough but was dismayed to read the fine print. 'In the event of suicide, no payout will be made.' At that her knees gave out from under her and Anne found her knelt on the floor, speechless.

"He wanted to save us, Anne, but he couldn't. Oh Matthew, brother. What have you done?"

Anne's response was to say that no one knew he had killed himself, it could have just been a terrible accident, they could still get the money, but Marilla would have none of it, "It's against the law, Anne. I can't do it, that would be defrauding the insurance company. I'd never get another moment's peace if I tried to pull the wool over their eyes."

The women did their chores, milking, laundry, cooking, with a deep depression. They tried to jolly each other along but their efforts fell flat. Though never voluble, they had both enjoyed Matthew's rare interludes and the twinkle in his eye as he watched or listened to Anne's antics. For such a quiet man, it was amazing how empty the house felt without him in it. At first both expected to meet him around each corner. Walking into the barn was a strange experience, he was bound to be in it somewhere, rather than buried in the graveyard. Anne took to making a trip there on her way home from school. It was comforting to sit next to the fresh mound of earth and just talk. He had always been a wonderful listener.

One day a letter arrived. Marilla dully opened it and having read it, collapsed in tears on the sofa.

Anne came rushing in to see what the matter was. "What is it Marilla? What's the matter?" Marilla was too distraught to talk, instead she held the letter out for Anne to read.

 _Charlottetown_  
 _15 December_

 _Dearest Marilla_

 _Diana wrote to me recently to tell me of your latest heartbreak. My dear I am so terribly sorry to hear about Matthew. I know you are up to your ears in debt and now this._

 _As you know the Good Lord has blessed me with wealth. Too much really for one old woman and I find the most rewarding way to spend it is to help friends out when the need is great. Marilla, I know your stance on charity, but despite that I despatched my man Rollings, to the Carmody bank to pay off your loan in full. You will be pleased to know that the bank manager looked like he had just swallowed an egg. He said, and I quote "This is most irregular"._

 _I won't hear a word against it. The deed is done in any case. If you feel the need, all I require in return is a jar of your delicious preserves once a year, delivered by Anne in person. I say we call it quits after that._

 _I remain,_

 _Your friend,_

 _Josephine Barry_

Anne read the letter through and through again, unable to make sense of the meaning. "So, she's? She's? Oh, Marilla."

Anne knelt down by Marilla's lap and lay her head upon it. Absentmindedly Marilla caressed her beautiful red locks.

"What can I do? I can't. Oh, I don't know, I can't accept it can I? And yet, I want to, I want to so desperately. It won't bring Matthew back, but it would mean we can stay here."

"I think we have to, in any case unless you want to take out another high-risk loan, we can't pay her back. All we can do is find the biggest jar of preserves in the pantry."

Anne rushed into that room and hunted around until she found a nice jar and carried it out proudly. "Here Marilla, I can take this to her next year."

Marilla looked at her wearily. "Anne, there is no way this is enough. I don't know. I need some advice, if only…" and she burst into a fresh bout of weeping.

Anne looked at her sadly. Unable to offer the advice she needed. Suddenly she had a brainwave and she dashed out of the house.

Marilla watched her go, unable to think where. If she had been in her right mind she might have had an inkling, but Marilla's brain was so overwrought these days it was as much as she could do to get up and function. She did, but only because she didn't want to end up in the bed like her mother had done many years ago after the loss of Marilla's older brother Michael. She forced herself up each morning, but she felt dead inside. The if-only's going around her brain: if only she had stayed with him; if only she had moved the rifle; if only she had moved the shells; if only he hadn't taken out the loan in the first place. For when it came down to it, it had been Matthew's fault. But she daren't give even internal voice to that thought.

Suddenly she heard a familiar tread on the doorstep and the kindly face of her oldest friend appeared around the doorway. Rachel walked over and sat next to Marilla. "Anne tells me you received good news."

"Yes, but I can't accept it. How can I accept it? It's too generous."

"Seems to me you have no choice. Isn't the loan paid off now?"

"Yes. That's the worst part about it. I feel trapped."

"Have you been praying for help?"

"Well of course I have."

"Then I think the Good Lord above has sent it to you and to refuse it would be to turn your back on Him."

"I never thought of it like that."

Rachel just sat next to her as she thought it through. "Well if it's what I've been praying for and it arrived, I suppose I should be grateful."

"And Anne says she wants preserves in payment?"

Laughing "Yes".

"Well you have plenty. We'll pop some in a basket and send Anne up with them in the New Year. Now, that's enough of that, Marilla. What do you and Anne have planned for Christmas?"

"Christmas? I, we, we haven't had time to consider Christmas at all. I don't feel like celebrating all that much."

"Well as it's a special occasion and I doubt you'd be up to cooking. I would like to invite you and Anne to our place for lunch."

"You're not going to the family?"

"Not this year, this year we want to spend it with our Avonlea family."

Marilla felt she had been crying an awful lot lately, but for a change these were tears of joy. Christmas had not occurred to her, but she did want to give Anne a nice day now that she thought about it. Through her tears, she was able to choke out a heartfelt thank you to Rachel.

* * *

Christmas Day arrived, they got dressed in their mourning clothes and made their way to church, Marilla driving. It was her first Christmas ever without her brother by her side. The congregation murmured their sorrow to her. Rachel had put the word about that Matthew's death had been a terrible accident, for which lie Marilla gave thanks.

Both Marilla and Anne had written long missives to Josephine Barry to thank her for her largesse and promised that Anne would visit in the new year with as many preserves as she could safely carry. Josephine wrote back to say that it was her pleasure and she didn't need too many preserves as it was only her eating them, she didn't want them to go without. One big jar was sufficient for her requirements. She would be delighted to see Anne in the new year.

Anne was surprised to find presents under the Lynde Christmas tree with her name upon them. Diana had given her a sampler with the words Bosom Friend and their friendship oath written upon it surrounded by trees, birds and flowers of every hue. Anne had a lovely few minutes looking for all the items Diana had sewn upon it. It must have taken her weeks to finish. Rachel had given her a new shawl to keep her warm on the coldest of days. Even Josephine Barry had sent a parcel. Anne reverently opened the box sent from their most generous benefactor, in it, wrapped in the most beautiful paper was a book of poetry. "Ohh" exclaimed Anne with tears in her eyes. "Look Marilla, poetry." Marilla looked upon Anne with a smile.

"She's very generous."

"I know I didn't expect anything else from her this year."

"We've been blessed that she has taken an interest in you Anne."

"We have a lot to be thankful, Marilla. Despite everything that's happened."

"We do, we do at that. I couldn't imagine ever smiling again, after you know, after. I felt so very alone. But now, I find we are surrounded by the kindness of our friends. I suppose we'll muddle through, together won't we?"

"Despite everything, this is still my favourite Christmas ever. We barely celebrated it at the asylum. I think the matron scared Father Christmas away. Maybe we got an extra serving of gruel?" Anne shuddered at the memory.

"You're safe here, Anne. I'll try to make each and every Christmas happier than the last."


	4. Chapter 4

"… misses you. I know your actions came from a misplaced sense of loyalty, but I wish you had talked to me first." Without announcing herself, Anne crept up and sat next to Marilla who was seated on a rug by Matthew's grave, and enveloped her in her arms. Marilla stopped momentarily, looked at Anne and smiled, leaning into the hug. "I'm just telling Matthew how much we miss him."

The little graveyard was full of Avonlea's dead. Some gravestones were at a lean now or lichen had rendered the names illegible. They had not yet had a chance to get a gravestone carved, in fact they could not afford it, but there was no doubt where he lay, Matthew's grave was still fresh. On this day a fresh scattering of snow hid the humped red soil.

"Do you come here often, Marilla?"

"Sometimes, around this time. It's cold, but I do like to chat to him. I talk, he doesn't; just like old times. You must think I'm very foolish, Anne."

"Oh no Marilla, I come here too. I think we must be just missing each other. Sometimes I come on the way home from school. If I'm late, it's because I've come to tell him about my day."

"Tell us both then," Marilla opened the basket, "here, have a piece of cake."

Nibbling on the cake, Anne explained how Mr Philips hadn't turned up to teach them and how the other teacher, Mr Martin, had had to teach the entire school as they sat crammed into the one classroom. "He had too many of us to teach, Marilla," Anne explained "and we none of us learned very much. During the morning Mrs Bell turned up to explain that Mr Philips has left town."

"My goodness!" Marilla exclaimed. Matthew was silent on the matter.

"Yes, Prissy Andrews went a bit pale and asked to be excused."

"Prissy Andrews? Why her particularly?"

"Mr Philips was sweet on Prissy, Marilla."

"Oh," there was more going on in that classroom than Marilla had been aware of, "and did Prissy like him too?"

"Yes, they were always mooning over each other. He spent more time with her than he ever did teaching us."

Marilla frowned, "I know I told you never to speak ill of your teacher, Anne. But this seems quite inappropriate."

"It really was."

"So, are they going to replace Mr Philips?" Marilla asked.

"Yes, Mrs Bell said the trustees will place an advertisement in the newspaper," Anne replied.

"Mr Martin will be busy teaching both classes. Come, I'm cold. Let's go home for a warm drink and prepare dinner," Marilla suggested.

"Goodbye Matthew, we'll see you soon," Anne blew the grave a kiss as they left.

Arm in arm the Cuthberts walked home through the snow until the inviting sight of Green Gables appeared around a corner. Anne paused momentarily "it's beautiful isn't it."

Marilla looked at the house too, "yes, we are just so very lucky we didn't lose it."

They walked inside and stood by the fire for a few moments warming up, turning around when their fronts were warm; before Marilla bustled out to the pantry to fetch the dinner things.

At the dinner table Marilla looked at Anne "We are lucky we got to keep the old place, but Anne we need some income until the next harvest. And I don't even know how we're going to manage until then or how to manage the harvest. It's just the two of us. It's not going to be easy."

"What can we do to make some money? I suppose I could clean houses."

"Well that's hardly sustainable, Anne. You have your studies. Let me think."

* * *

"I took Marilla some food today." Rachel told Thomas over dinner a couple of days later. "I'm worried about them."

"Yes?"

"Of course, they're missing Matthew dreadfully, but more than that they don't have an income."

"They're out of debt aren't they, thanks to Miss Barry."

"Yes Thomas, but they still don't have any money put by. The crop was lost as you know. Without that and without Matthew to farm, how are they going to cope?"

Thomas looked at his wife thoughtfully. "Hmm, I don't know, we shall have to ponder. Any news on the new teacher?"

"We advertised, it's not going to be easy to find someone at this time of the year."

* * *

"How is Mademoiselle Cuthbert, Jerry?" Madam Baynard asked when he came home after a hard days work.

"She is fine, I'm worried about them though, Maman."

"How so, they are out of debt now, are they not? They are lucky, I wish we had a benefactor like that."

"Oui Maman, but they need help sewing the crops when spring comes. I don't think I can do it all by myself. It's a big job and I've never done it before."

"The Baynard family will help. They have been good to you, we will help."

* * *

"Thomas, we had an application for the teacher's job," announced Rachel a couple of weeks later.

"Aha."

"A woman, Muriel Stacey. We've never had a lady teacher here in Avonlea. It's a bit unusual, but at this time of year, beggars can't be choosers I suppose."

"A woman? Hmm. It might not be so bad you know. It's not as though your last man was great shakes." Thomas waved his fork at her, "You know, it might kill two birds with one stone, as it were."

"Whatever do you mean, Thomas?"

"Perhaps this Muriel Stacey could board with Marilla and Anne? She'd get a nice place to stay and her board would provide them with some income."

Rachel stared at her husband in shock, "you know Thomas Lynde, you're not just a pretty face," she walked around the table and leant over to kiss him on the cheek.

* * *

"Marilla! Marilla!" Rachel called as she rushed into the familiar Green Gables a week later. "We've chosen a new teacher. It's a lady, Muriel Stacey."

"A lady, well goodness gracious me. That is unusual."

"I know, we've never had a lady teacher at the Avonlea School, but we had no choice at this time of the year. She comes highly regarded."

"Why is she free then?"

"I don't know, a change in circumstances perhaps? Anyway, Thomas and I were discussing your situation the other night."

"Our situation?" Marilla asked, tightly.

"Oh, yes you know. The money situation."

"I'm not sure I like the thought of you two are discussing our personal circumstances, Rachel."

"It's just Thomas. I haven't been chatting to the whole town. Anyway, do you want to hear our suggestion?"

Marilla poured the tea and sat down looking at Rachel, "I suppose so."

"It was Thomas' idea. How would it be if this new teacher came to board with you and Anne? She could pay rent and keep the wolf from the door, so to speak."

Marilla could think of a multitude of reasons why that plan wouldn't work, but right now she couldn't actually voice any. Money was tight, verging on non-existent and she had been worried how they would get through. Even with the income from the sale of their goods, they would run out of money well before the harvest, which had yet to be sown. It was all rather a mess, she couldn't sleep at night for fretting about it. "I, er, um, I."

"Yes, I think this is the best plan, Marilla. Muriel Stacey can stay here. You can cook and clean for her, leaving her time to prepare lessons and mark assignments. I'm sure she would be delighted to live with you. You've got space. She could stay in Matthew's old room," Rachel glanced up at Marilla who was looking at her in shock, "or maybe another room," faltered Rachel, realising her mistake. Marilla's eyes filled with tears and Rachel patted her hand. "I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me. It's too soon for that isn't it? I'll help you make up the other spare room, upstairs. "Do you want me to talk to her? Maybe she could come by and see the house. We'll say the usual teacher's house is rundown and inappropriate for a lady."

"I don't want to lie to her, Rachel."

"No, no, not lie. Just a wee embellishment, Marilla. For the sake of your coffers."

"I suppose so," Marilla said with a frown.

"Now, you have to be positive, dear."

"Before you go off half cocked, I need to talk it over with Anne. It affects her too. What if she doesn't like the idea of living with her teacher?"

"Pfft, I imagine she will be delighted," Rachel scoffed.

"Knowing Anne, she probably will be. Despite that I have to ask her first. Miss Stacey will be her teacher after all."

* * *

When Anne ran in from school that afternoon, Marilla was waiting with folded arms. Anne stumbled, she had learned that stance meant Mariilla had something to say, often unpleasant.

"Wh-what is it Marilla? Is something the matter?" Anne's guilty conscience got the better of her, though she couldn't recall having done anything wrong lately.

"No, nothing's the matter," Marilla replied with a smile, "why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, sorry," Anne was reluctant to let Marilla know about her tell. It came in useful now and then.

"Come and sit down, I baked plum puffs for you."

"Oh Marilla, I don't think you've baked them since Matthew..." Anne couldn't say the word, not yet. Subconsciously, she felt if she didn't say it, it wasn't true. "Since then," she finished lamely.

"No, I don't think I have, have I darling? Come have one with me and we'll remember him," Marilla offered.

"I feel everyone else has moved on, you know. But I'm not ready to, I don't think I'll ever be ready," Anne stated sadly.

"Of course they have, life moves on for them," Marilla counselled her. "When you lose someone you love, I don't think you ever really move on, you know. The pain dulls, but it never really goes away. It just becomes a part of you. You loved Matthew so dearly, and the price you pay for that love is this pain now he's gone. It hurts, but it tells me how much you loved him in the first place, so it's a good thing. Do you understand? It won't always hurt this much, but the memory of the pain and the memory of him will remain." Marilla hugged Anne with all her might. It felt good somehow to have someone to share this time with. If Anne had never arrived, she would be on her own now. It was selfish, she supposed, to think this way. But then Anne and Matthew had enjoyed a wonderful relationship and that was a good thing to witness, surely?

"What did you want to say, earlier?" Anne asked, as she dried her eyes and blew her nose.

"Oh, yes I nearly forgot. Well Rachel was up here earlier. They have appointed a new teacher, a lady."

"How wonderful," Anne looked delighted.

"Rachel was wondering if she might board here with us, give us a little income, you know"

"Wouldn't she stay at the teacher's house? Isn't that the normal thing to do?"

"Well yes, but it's a bit dilapidated. Instead of fixing it up, it might be nicer if she lived here. We could certainly do with the money. What do you think?" Marilla looked at Anne for her approval.

Living with the teacher? Anne wasn't sure. She couldn't imagine living with Mr Philips, but there was a good chance this lady teacher would be nicer than he had ever been, she could hardly be worse.

"I sup-pose so?" Anne said tentatively.

"How about we meet her first, so you can be sure. It's a lot to take in, I suppose, particularly given your track record with teachers," Marilla suggested.

"Could we? That would be delightful. Can we invite her to tea Marilla?" Anne jumped up when she said it and gave Marilla a big hug.

"Settle down child. Of course we can. I'll send word via Rachel that we would like to meet her first."


End file.
